I never thought I'd admit it, but I have to say: I'm bored. The schools turned the rugrats out for the summer on June 1, and I haven't had a moment's peace since. I love my kids; I'd give them a kidney in a second's notice. Still, there are times when I'd just like a few moments of silence and reflection. Instead, I hear my daughter's shrill voice calling out MOM at least a dozen times a day to tell on her brother for something ridiculous he's done or said. I have decided that unless someone is unconscious, having a seizure, or bleeding from the ears, I'll just ignore it. Maybe that's not the most admirable parenting skill; I'm aware of that. Trust me, though. At this point in time it's a matter of sparing a little sanity and keeping my last two nerves from picking on each other. My luscious hibiscus flowers are helping to keep me sane, as well… I love gardening; plants are almost like pets.
Tomorrow I will be leaving for Virginia for 5 or 6 days to spend time with the family. I haven't visited since March. Zach will be staying on with my dad for 3 weeks or so; they have plans to go fishing and do manly sorts of things. This means, of course, that I'll be spending those 3 weeks without the constant tattle telling and sibling rivalry. Perhaps I'll even be able to watch a good flick or two and hang out in my own Margaritaville with some friends.
I've been feeling rather old lately; maybe it's the aforementioned boredom and rattling nerves that gives me that feeling. I've also managed to pull a groin muscle, get a sunburn on my shoulders, and bite my cheek within the past two days. That'll add a little age to anyone (especially the pulled groin muscle). Not to mention that at this very moment my feet are as cold as a well digger's ass. God, I hate cold feet.
Ah, I won't worry too much about it. Besides, I have a four hour trip to take tomorrow. Driving always makes me feel better. I just crank up the CD player (it's usually Buffett) and reminisce about the people and places of the past. At home, there's a memory around every corner. It's healing to go there; I feel better after I've spent a week or so in the pines where I was born.
